We are not sure how it started...Hell, we are not even sure when it happened. But after the Outbreak, nothing was the same. It started small, scattered reports here and there; a rumor about this, like it did in every movie. The cases were small in number and criticized for their unbelievability. But it started to spread. One by one, it took more lives. One by one, our loved ones turned into those...things. It spread quickly after that, entire towns rendered useless and devoid of life. Government's crumbled in the drama of the world, and we watched, not comprehending what was going on in the grand scheme of things. And then the world went black.

It's sad that we were surprised. Our ignorance kept us from preventing anymore deaths. Because of what we thought didn't exist, the entire world is now a vast wasteland that we call our home. We heard the warnings, we saw everything unfold, but we did nothing. We stood back and watched at the very face of the world was changed in a heartbeat. We no longer were the top of the food chain. We were survivors from then on. This little ragtag group has been there since the beginning Ignot and Alex leading the way, hoping that each step is the right one. Because now, it's not about the differences among people, it's not about race, creed, or sex anymore.

Welcome to the official restart to one of the best RP's to grace this forum (at least, the participants say so). The goal of this PR is to really grasp not only the realism of a Apocalypse, but to show the human element to it. How people can continue to thrive in condition not so favorable to the human race. If you do something stupid, you'll get killed. If you run off by yourself, you get killed. If you do something that will get you killed....you'll get killed. I have no problems killing player characters to keep the story realistic. However, some of the stunts we pull as a group come straight out of a movie. So expect shenanigans.

Please, no God-Moding, these people are real people brought together in hardship. Not everyone's a soldier, not everyone knows how to start a fire or get a headshot first shot. So make it real.

I expect a fair amount of effort on your part, the player. We try to keep a close community of players so that we can share plots and push stories. If you don't get involved beside a post every now and then, you'll lack the crucial element of player interaction. That's how RP's last a long time.

Physical appearance: Ignot just looks suspicious. If he dressed like he does now before the infection, he’d be arrested in a heartbeat by cops all over. He is a fairly large man, broad shoulders and chest from the Russian bloodline, as well as toned muscles on his frame from the workout he does every morning. This gives him a very intimidating presence to those who don’t know him. But the black painter’s fumigation mask he wears as well as the red and silver sunglasses adds to his rather mysterious look.

Bald as a cue ball, he never really cared for hair, and regularly shaves it with his hunting knife to keep it clean. As for clothing, he usually is seen in a pair of camouflage pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, covered by a bullet proof vest he found on a zombie corpse. He never really seems to change out of it, but he never stinks…Coincidence, I think not.

Personality: Ignot is not a quiet man, but he is not a loud one either. He speaks when he needs to and not much more after that. He hardly drinks, he never smokes (obviously), and he rarely takes part in what he deems as ‘games’. He keeps to himself mostly, watching interactions from afar, the cold red lenses always watching. If you ever do get him in a conversation, he never talks about himself. Hardly anyone knows who he was or where he came from, besides Russia. Part of that is because he feels that he has started over. This infection is a bad thing, sure, but it gave him an opportunity to start over again, to try to help people instead of killing them. As far as he is concerned, the past is past and there is no use going back to it.

He may not talk a lot, but he is not a cold person by any means. While he can turn his emotions off to get something done, he will not just shun some one in need. If he can help, he will. But he knows when something is useless or a lost cause and will not pursue the issue further. On the rare occasion he gets so pissed he starts to yell, it is an extreme terror for anyone on the receiving end of it. After he is done, he will walk away and vent on anything, breaking things, shooting thing (mostly zombies), but he will come back later and try to reconcile. He hates to blow up and feels horrible each time it happens.

In any case, he is loyal to those he deems friends and will do anything for them. He has a fierce honor code and will not lift a hand to women or children. But his one rule is, never touch the mask. If you do, he will immobilize you and ask you politely not to do it again. Not many friends are left, but these survivors seem to follow him and to trust in him. He’s not going to let them down.

History: Ignot was known as Illaron Oksyutik before the infection, born in Moscow to a moderately wealthy family. But he was born with a weaker immune system than most, so he had to say inside lot, or keep a surgeon’s mask on when he left the house. His father, an underboss in the Russian Mob, was a very powerful man and took care of his family as much as he could. However, soon after Ignot turned 5, his father was killed in a horrible shooting of a rival gang. Action was taken quickly and Ignot and his mother were moved to a safe house in America, but as a condition of the move, his mother asked that they not bo associated with the mob afterward, in case some of the newer guys in America decided to rat them out. It was considered and accepted, at the disdain of the bosses, but they figured that the pair wouldn’t cause trouble. She enrolled Ignot in school and tried to start a new life in America. But of course, because of Ignot’s mask and his broken English, he was picked on and teased constantly.

As he moved up in the school ranks, the bullies became too much for him. He talked to a few of the Mob member and asked them to train him. They laughed at him initially, but he punched one of the members in the mouth. This lead to a beating, but an older member of the mob watched him, then helped him up, telling him that he had something these new kids didn’t have. Maverat, his name was. Maverat decided to train the boy with the help of some of the other older members.

Years went by and he became stronger, he was introduced to weapons and how to use them, close combat, and even how to look more intimidating. He bought a painter’s mask, thinking of it more like a gas mask and modified it to filter the air coming in better, and painted it a midnight black. Using his new found knowledge, in school, instead of approaching the bullies one by one, he stalked them, waiting until they were alone to ambush them and beat them.

One by one they fell. But the last one was a bit more intelligent then the rest. As Ignot ambushed him, the bully whipped out a knife he had stolen and fought back. Ignot was hit a few times, but he managed to wrestle the knife away and stabbed the kid in the throat. Ignot watched as the kid slowly bled to death, and he was surprised. He enjoyed this. Watching the life drain out of the bully’ face, eyes slowly close after agonizing minutes of bleeding out. It was entertaining. At that moment, his life was decided. He talked to the old men and asked them to let him kill. It wasn’t too long before he was a hitman for the mob.

Ignot does not even remember his first hit. Or his second. The beginning years were all of blur. He killed, got paid, and went home. His mother knew he was working for the mob, but she said nothing as she watched Ignot spiral into a bottomless well of insanity and bloodlust. Soon, those kills were no longer good enough for him. He wanted a challenge, a mark worthy of his skills. They gave it to him. He had to kill the boss of a rival family. He did it. Not much to say. But what got the old men was that he killed everyone in the house. Men, women, guards, guests, bosses, servants. No one in that house survived. As he walked out, he set the house on fire as well. The old men knew they had to get rid of him, but he was too good.

He got home later on that week and talked to his mother, who confronted him about the mob. He didn’t react at first, brushing it off as a mother thing. But as she pressed more and more, he go angrier and angrier. Eventually, he stood up, slapped her so hard she fell to the floor. Looking up at shock to him, he realized then, what he had become. He was willing to strike the very woman who had given birth to him. The person who loved him no matter what. Who gave so much to care for him and his bodily defect, and he was willing to hit her.

He stood up and walked out of the house, directly to the old men. He demanded to be let out and just to walk away. But he knew too much. He knew that the old men were planning to take back the mob from the young men; he knew locations, addresses, names, faces. He had to be taken care of. They all pulled guns and started shooting. He jumped out of the 3rd story window and landed, hard. Limping as fast as he could, he tried to get away on a broken leg but Maverat caught up to him. Spinning him around, Maverat pressed a gun barrel against his chest and whispered ‘This will help you get out. When you recover, run.’

The bullet barely missed his heart.

He woke up a month later in a hospital bed, no one in sight. Pulling out of the bed carefully, he slipped on his mask to see what was going on. The man next to his bed, a cloth draped over his body, started to move and claw at him. Briefly struggling at the shock of it, he grabbed a pen and thrust it into the man’s heart, knowing that it would kill him. But, to his horror, the man just kept clawing at him, trying to get the blanket off of him. Grabbing the small metal table next to the bed, he beat the man about the head and shoulders until he moved no more.

Ignot locked the door and lay in his bed. HE thought of his past, of his future now, and of the regrets he had. But after staring at the body of his victim, he decided. His life was over. This was the beginning for him once again. A way to shed the regrets and doubts of his past life, but to change and do it differently. This was his chance. Unlocking the door and dragging the closest corpse in, he stripped him and got dressed. Donning his red sunglasses, Ignot looked into the mirror. Using a knife, he cut off all of his hair as best as he could. Walking outside, he noticed a small lockbox that was ajar. It had his guns and ammo in there. Filling his pockets and grabbing a walkie talkie from a dead policeman nearby, he was ready to start his new life. The life as Ignot.

Now, if the characters continue, then please do not introduce major changes to them, as i plan on keeping the story from the original and pressing forward. Don't let this ostracize the new players though, we will fit you in!

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"May I take a moment to tell you the joys of National Socialism?" - Also Red Beret

Physical appearance: Not very tall for her age, Alex has a hard time getting respect. Not because of her height, but because of her sex. But, you should be careful. She may be small, but she’s quick and knows how to swing a bat that’ll cause a zombie’s head to fly out of the ballpark. She wears baggy blue jeans, hiking boots, a grey long sleeve shirt with a red shirt, a black coat, a black pilot hat, and gloves.

Gear: Small: A journal, flashlight, Walkie-Talkie, and empty 9MM clip, and 4 C batteries.Medium: Water bottle and a small pouch-like bag to carry everythingLarge: A Silver Metal Bat.

Personality: Despite her age, Alex has seen a lot more than one would think. She rude, obnoxious, a liar, but she knows how to survive. For some reason, quiet Ignot and herself get along, which would never happen. Ignot is more of a strong, silent type, while she’s loud and outgoing. The two of them make fun of each other and get into mischief; Alex and Ignot are the only ones that probably have the sanest friendship (insane to the rest) after the outbreak. She speaks her mind and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. However, in recent times, she’s learned to calm down and to listen to what others are saying. She will speak her mind sometimes, but since the death of Mr. Matheson, she has learned to listen and follow orders. History: Look here for history

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It's been a hard day's nightAge is no guarantee of efficiency 3DS friend code: 4613-6707-8466

I managed to append my character and I like what he has become.Name: Sebastian HartmannNickname (If any): BastianAge: 24Height: 6' 1"Weight: 195 lbs.Eye Color: HazelHair Color: BrownPre-infestation profession: WriterPersonal skills: Fountain of information (both useful and useless), basic survival and first aid skillsJobs in the apartment: Storyteller

Physical appearance: He looks like what a normal person whould think of when you tell them to think of a writer. Average height and somewhat scrawny build. Though, on closer inspection, one whould find that he is not a scrawny as he looks, having well-defined muscles and a solid air about him.

He has hair of a length down to his center back which he wears in a tight braid and a rough goatee. His clothes consist of a pair of worn blue jeans, a solid black t-shirt, and a dark blue long-sleeved button down shirt. Over these he wears a cloak of rough canvas when outside as well as a gray floppy hat. Due to it now being winter, he also wears a nice long wool scarf and a sturdy pair of work boots.

Gear:-Small: 2 boxes of .357 cartridges (20 per box), Notebook and pencil, lighter, a copy of his first novel "Adrift in the Sea of Time"-Medium: .357 Colt King Cobra, flashlight-Large: Lead pipe

Personality: He is the kind of guy that laughs in the face of anything. The kind that will have a smile on his face no matter what the situation and always will. He will try to raise anyone's spirit up when he thinks it can be done even if the insist for him not too. He is just a straight forward and honest type of guy. Though he does seem to have an odd sense of humor, some might even call him grim in cases.

He is the kind that will try to help with just about any problem that can come up. And due to his learning, he can most likely come up with an answer. Though sometimes, they tend to be quite long-winded and even difficult to understand at time.

History: From his early childhood, Sebastian know that he was different from his peers. He loved books more than anything else in his world. While other kids spent their time with sports and the like, he spent his time reading. He read anything he could get his hands on. Classics, comics, how-to books, survival manuals, history, everything. It was through this that he determined that he wanted to be a writer in his future. At age 10, at the start of middle school for him, he became a student librarian at his schools library. In high school, he furthered this by finding a job at his towns public library. All the while working through countless ideas for a novel of his own.

Fast forward several years and Sebastian has graduated from college with a degree in literature, pursuing his life's dream, he became a freelance writer, writing short stories for magazines, all the while working on his first novel. He situated himself in an apartment complex in the city of Baltimore. It was here that an idea was born and his novel began to take shape. He soon found an editor by the name of Jolynn who helped him finish his novel and push it for publication. And as it was set to go to market, the whole world went to chaos. The zombie outbreak had begun. It began with the cries of people in the streets.

Sebastian had been up celebrating his novel with Jolynn and publisher, so he had no idea what to make of the scene he saw when he pulled back the curtains covering the window looked out that morning. There were people everywhere, several were running down the roads, while several times more were slowly shambling down the road in pursuit. He watched as a straggler got caught and torn limb from limb by this crowd. He slowly, replaced the curtains and sat on the ground, curling into a fetal position rocking gently back and forth, saying it was all just a dream with a grin on his face trying to convince himself that this wasn't happening. It was Jolynn that snapped him out of his daze and got him moving. They used the roof access hatch to get outside and from there, made their way across the close roofs of the housing district to make it to a near-by market. They raided the place, grabbing food and stuffing it into bags, before leaving and heading to a high raise office building.

Once inside, they met up with others who had taken shelter in the building. Together, they fortified the building. Blocking the lower level stair cases and setting up watches just in case something happened. They distributed the food and were doing well for themselves for awhile. Days passed as the zombies took over the city, killing those caught outside and effectively preventing any help from getting in. With food running short, Sebastian believed that the group of survivors had to leave their fortifications and head out into the city in search of food and other useful items. Many were against this idea. Soon though, a guard at one of the rear doors went missing. Then others began to vanish as well. Sebastian decided that they all needed to stay in a group and to make sure that everyone was armed with something. He himself, picked up a length of pipe that was lying about from one of their barricades.

They managed to last several more days, before the lack of food became apparent, his party was fading. Then late one night, the group was assaulted by zombies from the same door that was to be used as their escape route. They were overwhelmed. Sebastian was the only one who managed to escape from the attack, but he had little food or water and was stuck in the center of a city infested with the undead. He slowly managed to escape the city, moving from shelter to shelter. Once free of the city, Sebastian survived on the knowledge he had gleamed during his life and what little he could salvage while avoiding large groups of both people and zombies. On one of his salvaging missions, he managed to come across a working .357 Colt revolver and two boxes of cartridges. He soon grew to appreciate the fact that his life had been spared, and relished his ability to smile at the face of death.

I've been dying to get back into RP's. I hope this suffices! Lemme know if anything is wrong.

Name: Leland ParkerAge: 23Height: 5’-9”Weight: 130lbsEye Color: blueHair Color: brownPre-infestation profession: Student/ Corpsman-in-trainingPersonal skills: Dexterous hands for skilled work, has become quite good at disassembling and maintaining firearms, though he is not the best shot. Medical skills, a fast runner with fairly high enduranceJobs in the apartment: Lookout, MedicPhysical appearance: (At least 2 paragraphs): Leland is Caucasian, tall and wiry with long arms and legs. Despite his lanky appearance, he is an accomplished runner and crew-team member. He has shaved his hair into a low Mohawk. He wears a white zip-up hoodie with a brown suede jacket over it, black jeans, black boots, a grey scarf and a brown cabbie’s hat. He literally only has the clothes on his back.

Personality: While he tries to appear tough, Leland is a pushover. He talks very little and when he does, he stutters and speaks with a southern drawl. As a result, he tries to endear himself to people with his generosity and skill set. He tends to relax when he hums old songs.Before the outbreak, he was applying to the Navy to become a Navy Medical Corpsman. Because of this, he takes his medical duties very seriously; all of his nervousness disappears when he is called upon to help.

History: Born in rural Louisiana, Leland never saw much outside of his own neighborhood. Pot lucks with the neighbors, hunting trips with his father’s friends, dances with the young ladies, and trips to New Orleans for Mardi Gras made up the brunt of his social experiences. An only child, Leland’s parents drove the importance of friendship into his mind; luckily, many of his peers found his quiet, gentleman-like manner refreshing. He excelled at sciences and biology in school and joined Track and Field in high school, later adding Crew to his activities while in college. He studied medical sciences in college; he wanted to be a pediatrician. One day, he reconnected with an old friend who had joined the Navy a few years earlier. He was a Navy Corpsman- a combat medic. Leland listened to his stories excitedly and called a recruiter the next morning. He wanted to join for several reasons. He wanted to expand his medical knowledge and he wanted to help others with his skills, but mostly: he wanted to change his quiet, meek self. His studied on his own, unable to wait for his training.While waiting for his deployment to BMT, Leland agreed to take a road trip with friends as a “going away” present. Their trip would bring them to New York City and back. But things went terribly wrong. After getting lost in West Virginia, Leland and his three friends-one of which was his girlfriend of two years-opted to stay in a motel and start afresh the next morning. Taking two rooms, they began to drink, party, and enjoy themselves. Leland opted to turn in early and fell asleep in the other room. Some time later, he awoke to screams. Someone had mistaken a noise at the door for him, and let in something else. He heard screams for help through the walls and someone was pounding at his door, but he was frozen, terrified, helpless. He has never forgiven himself for his weakness and begs for forgiveness every day. After escaping the motel, he managed to survive day-to-day by scavenging and looting houses for supplies and trading his medical services to groups of survivors for protection. After a few months, he managed to arm himself and retrieved a Corpsman’s pack from an overturned troop carrier. Knowing that such a find was a sign, he decided to push north; to Pennsylvania.

As much as i didn't want soldiers in this, you have crafted a very balanced character. He's not uber soldier, but he's competent. And he's not charismatic as all get out either. I like him. Play him well.

Approved.

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"May I take a moment to tell you the joys of National Socialism?" - Also Red Beret